


One More Time To Try Again.

by Jem (letalloursingingfollowhim)



Category: We Are The Tigers - Allen
Genre: All Farrah Wants is to be a Good Sister, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Crying, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:20:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25762000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letalloursingingfollowhim/pseuds/Jem
Summary: Annleigh wants to understand Farrah and Farrah just wants to be good enough for Annleigh. Both of these are really, really, difficult things.
Relationships: Farrah & Annleigh
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	One More Time To Try Again.

**Author's Note:**

> WATT FIC!!! I had a bunch of ideas for WATT fics and went with... none of them. This came to me as I put chicken in the oven and I was just like... "wow let's take this idea and do it! No plan needed!" Yolo.
> 
> ENJOY!

The sound of glass bottles rattling together and being harshly set down was nothing out of the ordinary - a typical weekday! The bottles would be set down and thrown around and then the familiar sound of laughter and singing would occur. Not long after that, it wouldn't be unusual to hear the sound of bottles once again, being tugged out of places with force, the contents gone in seconds. Sometimes there would be singing and laughing again or sometimes it would go silent, completely void of the laughing that had been so present, or, on the unluckier nights, there would be the frantic patter of feet moving from the bedroom to the ensuite bathroom followed by the harsh sound of retching, the bottle set down with the same vigor as the others had been. And on the worst of nights, Annleigh would be able to hear Farrah for hours past midnight.

Annleigh had counted how many bottles she'd heard being set down. Five. She had heard five bottles being set down with such force she was sure that at least one of them had smashed and she was then sure that she would find the contents of the liquor spilled all over the woollen rug which Farrah had insisted on having. Annleigh had heard each song Farrah had performed, each one more sloppy and off-key than the last; she had heard each time Farrah had laughed, loud and excited, and she had heard each time she had been retching in the bathroom.

Annleigh told herself that she wasn't even slightly shocked at what she had counted, she told herself that surely Farrah hadn't finished as many bottles as she had set down, she repeated to herself that Farrah was probably having more than and being more obnoxious than usual because their parents were out, and Annleigh reminded herself that this was all Farrah's fault anyway - she was in control of she was doing. 

To the left side of Annleigh, sat her pair of headphones, light pink and disregarded, having been taken off when she realised that she wanted to hear what Farrah was doing. For a moment, Annleigh's chest constricted at the idea that she might have taken the headphones off too late and that Farrah had been drinking for longer than she had realised. Annleigh shook the feeling off; she didn't care about Farrah, she didn't care about the child who was living in her home, causing so much trouble in her and her mom's life.

Whenever Farrah's dad found out she had been drinking, he was furious. Annleigh remembered how he had screamed at Farrah, told her how if she even tried to drink again, she would be confined to her room and monitored. Farrah was thirteen, halfway through the eighth grade when he found out. Annleigh had known for much longer. Annleigh had screamed at Farrah too, disowned her as a sister on the spot, told her she would never amount to anything if she drank. Annleigh could remember how long Farrah had spent in her room after she had found out, crying, bottles set down in the harsh manor she usually set them down constantly. After hearing all of it for the first time, Annleigh promised she wouldn't tell anyone, not even her mom.

It had taken Farrah months to speak to Annleigh properly again, never meeting her eyes whenever she did so. Farrah only began to speak to Annleigh and spend time in her room after her father had said everything he had. It felt easier to be around her sister, even if she was ignored, she wasn't alone with her thoughts. Annleigh remembered how Farrah had cowered and told her that she was so scared of what her father would do if he found out the true amount of her problem. Annleigh had promised she wouldn't tell him anything but hadn't comforted Farrah, her resentment growing more than it had been. Even with Farrah beside her and being honest about problems, Annleigh couldn't help but still be angry at the small thirteen year old.

Lost in her own thoughts, Annleigh almost forgot about Farrah, the now almost-fifteen year old who had gotten no support for her drinking problem and had instead gotten worse. Much worse. Annleigh had always thought that it was a phase when barely seventh grade Farrah had staggered into her room hammered, Annleigh thought she wouldn't do it again, especially since Annleigh had refused to acknowledge that they were family. She thought that would be enough to make her stop, make her rethink about what she was doing. But Annleigh couldn't recall the last time she had seen Farrah sober anymore.

Six. That was the sixth bottle Annleigh could hear Farrah set down, and the bottle had sounded empty. Annleigh drew a tense breath as she heard Farrah stumble and fall onto something, the string of curses Farrah had said causing her to scowl in the direction of the door. Next, Annleigh heard Farrah clumsily get to the bathroom, falling onto the door of the ensuite process as she did so. Annleigh hated that she could hear everything but still, she didn't return her wireless headphones back onto her head, rather, she waited for the sound of Farrah to re-emerge from the bathroom.

The longer Farrah took in the bathroom, the more exasperated Annleigh got. She couldn't help it, however, she couldn't help the fact that she was waiting for the knowledge that Farrah was still conscious and not passed out on the cold, tiled floor of the bathroom like Annleigh had found her one too many times. She couldn't help what Farrah did, but Farrah could.

The moment Annleigh heard light footsteps lead back into Farrah's room, Annleigh let out the breath which she didn't realise she had been holding as she reached for her headphones for the second time that night. Annleigh didn't need to listen for Farrah anymore, it was been stupid that she had been, it wasn't like Farrah hadn’t gotten wasted before! However, Annleigh hesitated. Hesitated as she strained her hearing - the sound of gentle sobs began to flood her. It was the only time Farrah had tried to be quiet the entire night. Farrah didn't want Annleigh to hear her crying.

Unsure of why, Annleigh felt the need to check on Farrah, make sure nothing was awfully wrong. Still, Annleigh didn't move from her position on the edge of the bed, her phone notifications ringing with each message from Clarke. Annleigh sat for what felt closer to hours rather than minutes; she sat as she waited for Farrah to stop crying. However, all Annleigh could hear was Farrah's sobs growing louder and faster as she heard another bottle being set down.

Annleigh couldn't have that. She couldn't have Farrah drinking anymore.

"What do you think you're doing?" Annleigh stormed into Farrah's room, biting the last word.

"I'm sorry..." Farrah spoke, jumping at the sound of Annleigh coming into her room.

Around Farrah sat bottles of alcopops and liquor, eight bottles rather than six, some half empty and others completely drained of their contents. Farrah's woollen rug was stained with various colours of the alcohol she had had, the colour no longer just cream, now various browns and darker colours in certain areas.

"Farrah!" Annleigh exclaimed, ignoring her apology as she watched Farrah attempt to collect the bottles frantically, tears still streaming down her face. 

"What did you do?"

"Nothing! It's nothing, Annleigh," Farrah replied, her voice frantic and trembling as she gulped down a breath.

"This isn't nothing, Farrah!" Annleigh couldn't help but let her voice raise in anger as she watched Farrah flinch away from the sound, struggling to hold each bottle.

"Don't tell dad," Farrah mumbled, her voice barely audible as she shoved the not quite empty bottles into a drawer and the empty ones into a plastic bag.

"I won't tell him," Annleigh softened her voice, "but look at you!"

Farrah's eyes were bloodshot, her cheeks flushed pink, damp from the tears that flowed freely. Her usually neatly kept braids were falling out, stray hair flying over and sticking to her face. Farrah's hands shook as she tried to straighten out the dishevelled braids, trying to look as neat as possible for Annleigh, not wanting her to find that as something to ridicule her about.

"You can leave," Farrah spoke, noticing Annleigh still in the doorway, wondering why she hadn't just left after seeing the state she was in. It was a night Farrah had overdone it. Overdone everything. She was exhausted.

Annleigh shook her head, walking in, eyes trained on Farrah. She wanted to be angry, she was so used to being blindingly angry at Farrah for doing stupid things like these - but she couldn't. Annleigh couldn't feel the familiar burn of anger in her chest like she was expecting, rather, there was an icy worry, it felt like swimming through a pond on a crisp spring morning.

"What did you do?" Annleigh asked again. She could see the aftermath of what Farrah had done, but Annleigh wanted to hear it from Farrah.

Overcome with dizziness, Farrah stumbled backwards onto her bed, hands running over her soft, blue quilt. Farrah wasn't used to Annleigh - or anyone - seeing her in the state she was in. Her entire personality was based on being overconfident and bubbly which she had begun to realise she couldn't achieve without the drunken buzz. Without that buzz, Farrah was nothing. She was hopeless. Uninteresting. Worthless.

Farrah knew alcohol was a depressant. Taken in small quantities could make her feel brilliant, like the whole world was humming and was hers for the taking; free and like she could do anything she wanted to. But in larger amounts, the world was grey, lacking colour and happiness, slow and painfully difficult to exist in. The more she took, the more she felt the crushing weight of her problem, the crushing weight that no one would like her without the alcohol, and the crushing weight that she would never be enough for Annleigh.

"Made myself feel better," Farrah replied, her mouth running from her as she looked down, trembling.

"Doesn't look like it," Annleigh replied, tentative, the anger still not bubbling over.

"Yeah well, I can't stop," Farrah continued, suddenly defensive, her words venom without warning.

"Yes you can," Annleigh uttered, the concern leaving her tone, matching the defensive way Farrah spoke. She couldn’t stay speaking softly if Farrah refused to try.

"No I can't!" Farrah stood up. "Do you know how much I've fucking tried Annleigh? Can you even begin to fucking imagine?" Farrah wasn't sure where the anger was coming from, moments ago she had been tearfully trying to clean up her mess. 

"Farrah! Don't use that language!"

Without hesitation, Annleigh’s words which she had spoken to Farrah on the night she had found out flooded her mind. "Or you're going to disown me as a sister? Oh wait-"

Clasping her hands at her sides, Farrah shook. She wasn't the type of person to say these things, especially not to Annleigh. Annleigh hated her but Farrah loved her. All Farrah had wanted since she was nine was to be accepted by her as a sister, but due to her own stupidity, Annleigh had reminded her that she would never be her sister.

"Farrah-" Annleigh spoke slowly, her face falling. "Stop. Sit down."

Tears began to prick at Annleigh's eyes, her stomach twisting in an uncomfortable knot. She had told Farrah this. She had been honest to Farrah. Annleigh hadn't seen Farrah as a sister.

"No!" Farrah's voice broke as she threw her hands to her face, feeling how hot tears had started to run down her face again. "Go away," Farrah spoke again, her voice losing all the bite that it had had. "You hate me," Farrah choked out, suddenly feeling crushed under the weight of sadness, the anger longer burning.

"I don't hate you-"

"You do. It's not hard to hate me though."

"I don't hate you, Farrah. You're-" Annleigh struggled to find the word. "You're frustrating and you... you do things I don't understand and you don't give me time. You never give me time to try and understand you. Since you started to live with me you were so... distant, closed off. It only got worse, Farrah." Words came tumbling out of Annleigh’s mouth in rapid fire, guilt almost crushing as she spoke them. Thoughts and feelings she had never planned on telling Farrah suddenly escaped, rolling off her tongue.

Farrah sat down, her eyes trained to her hands. "You said-"

Annleigh cut her off. "I said the wrong things."

Farrah nodded, tears spilling over her eyes as she looked up at Annleigh.

"Don't go."

"I'm not going anywhere," Annleigh replied, sitting down beside her sister, reaching out a hand. Annleigh told herself that they could discuss it more tomorrow, discuss what they could do for each other, help them get closer and more understanding.

"Thank you."

**Author's Note:**

> Hehehhe more WATT fics to come!
> 
> Comments make me cry :)


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